1 The Land Beyond the Clouds

When the clouds swallowed him up, he closed his eyes. So this was how it'd end. At twenty-six, it was a short existence. He would die as he lived — reckless and alone. At least the Cloud Hawks would be down a train's worth of guns and ammo. Not to mention getting an entire warehouse of rations up in flames before nearly the entire gang was hot on his heels. His only regret was he didn't taste that nice bottle of liquor he palmed from a VIP crate.

Well, at least he went out with a bang. He was sure everyone in Ore Town saw the explosion. A train stuffed with blackpowder was laughably easy to set alight. It might've taken his life, but he was sure he dealt a severe blow to the Hawks. Without the weapons, they'd be forced to retreat from the Dusts, and leave Ore Town alone.

His mind began to wander. When he initially leapt off the cliff to dodge his pursuers, he was prepared to die, and die the way he chose. Not captured or filled with Hawk bullets. But he didn't expect death to take this long. He was still falling through the clouds, his surroundings featureless and white. He definitely didn't anticipate getting this much time to contemplate his life choices. He didn't want to start regretting his decision.

He had no idea how long he'd been falling, or how much there was to go. No one knew. He hoped there was some end to the clouds though — he didn't fancy falling endlessly until he died of thirst or boredom. A few tales said an underworld full of demons dwelled below. Some legends told of another continent, one with full of magic. Others claimed a paradise could be found. Paradise sounded pretty nice, and he was hoping that was his destination., though he thought a hell suited him more. He'd probably die to the impact if there was land under the clouds, but if it were at least in a beautiful place, maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

He patted at his inner coat pocket. The expensive bottle of liquor was still there. Just as he considered popping the bottle open and toasting his life away, the sensation of falling disappeared. He twisted his body around, trying to glimpse what was happening below him.

A brilliant swath of green, like nothing he had ever seen, stretched out before him. Land. Not just any land, but a heavily forested one, with sweeping grasslands and hills. It was nothing compared to view he got of the Dusts, where muted browns and grays colored the landscape instead. So the folks who said it was paradise below the clouds were right.

As he viewed the landscape, he noticed wasn't moving. He was suspended with the clouds, like a dead fly floating in a mug of beer. He tried to reach out toward the ground, but he came into contact with some kind of invisible wall. Great. Well, he definitely wasn't surprised that he wasn't allowed in paradise given the things he's done, the life he's led.

He sighed, turning back around to face the whiteness of the clouds. So close, but no dice. Whatever this place was, he wasn't allowed in. He wondered if he'd die up here, a forgotten pile of dust floating in this land's sky, just a minuscule speck to the eyes of whatever lived down there. There wasn't really anyone who'd miss him from up above either.

Before he could immerse himself into brooding, he was rudely interrupted by a loud cracking sound beneath him. His mind blanked out, and before he knew it, the familiar sensation of falling was back. Oh how he didn't miss that. He did what anyone else probably would've done at this point — scream.

The wind battered past him carrying his screams away, whipping his white bangs over his face and causing his eyes to tear up. He had one hand clutched to keep his coat closed, lest that precious bottle of booze somehow escaped. If he was going to die, he'd at least like to die with his reward.

The bright green foliage grew closer and closer until he could make out the individual trees. He wished he could've apologized to the residents of a pretty place like this. He was sure the splatter of his blood and gore would leave an unpleasant stain on the grass. Maybe dying in a beautiful place was a pretty bad way to go. It was probably better if he had died up beyond that invisible forcefield in the sky.

As the ground rushed up to meet him, he thought he heard a girl's shout. Angels, perhaps? He wouldn't doubt it in a place like this. He mentally apologized to them for having to clean up his mess. Maybe praying would've been better, on second thought.

But before his face could make contact with the earth, he began to rapidly slow down, until finally his nose halted just a few inches above a blade of grass. Then, he was dropped. He heard a heartbreaking crack as the bottle inside his coat broke. A true shame. Beside him, he heard a big sigh followed by the sound of someone collapsing next to him.

He gingerly picked himself up, rubbing the dirt from his nose, picking glass out of his pocket, and looked at what he figured was his savior. There wasn't anything else that could've stopped a fall like that.

A young, teenaged girl sat panting on the grass. She wiped some sweat from her forehead, but seeing him stand up she immediately perked up. She tried to scramble back up, her knees threatening to drop her back down as she finally stood.

"You're alive! Thank the Stars," she exclaimed, beaming at him. As far as he could tell, she looked human enough. Two, bright blue eyes. Fawn colored hair tied back into a loose ponytail. Two arms, two legs, no sight of wings or tails or anything like he'd heard of from tales. At first glance, at least. She did look a bit ordinary for an angel. But she seemed to have been able to cast some sort of magic to stop him from turning into a splatter on the ground.

She ran up to him, legs wobbling under her like a newborn filly, and seemingly just as excited as one. She circled around him, taking in his dirty, ragged clothing, his unkempt hair, the beginnings of a stubble, the pair of guns strapped to his hips, and liquor staining his breast pocket with a smile.

"You dropped from the sky," she said, eyes shining up at him. He shifted a bit uncomfortably under her gaze. He didn't deal with the bright and cheerful type so well. "Are you an angel?"

"Me?" He gaped at her, searching her face for some evidence of sarcasm or a joke. He found none, and he considered himself a pretty good read of people's faces — a skill that helped fund his bar tab when he won a few games of cards. Was this place actually paradise? A paradise so full of peace and harmony that a girl her age could be so innocent? That a filthy looking gunslinger like him could even possibly be considered to be an angel?

She was still staring at him, waiting for his answer. He sighed, brushing some of his hair back into place, patting some dust off his pants. "Look, kid, I'm no angel. But I did drop out the sky. Were you the one that saved me?"

"I'm not a kid," she shot back, a small pout forming on her lips. "My name is Celia."

"Alright then, Celia, were you the on—"

"What's your name?"

Maybe he had it all wrong. He was starting to have his doubts that this was paradise.

"It's Curt. Anyways, were you—"

"Nice to meet you, Curt," she said, extending out a hand to shake. She was so full of energy now, he had trouble believing she was the girl who was sitting on the grass from exhaustion just a minute ago. He withheld his sigh, and shook her smooth hand with his roughened up one.

"I managed to successfully cast air magic to cushion your fall," she chirped excitedly. "It was the first time I actually succeeded to control it too, so I'm really happy you're okay."

Now he was having second thoughts about thanking his savior. Could she really be considered his savior if she managed to stop his fall through a fluke? To think that his life was saved through beginner's luck.

"Well, uh, thanks, I suppose," Curt finally put out. "Anyways, I don't suppose you could tell me where I am? I did just kind of fall out of the sky."

"Oh, right! You're in Gladys Forest." Seeing Curt's blank expression at the name, Celia continued, "The biggest forest in Sanora? In the Sanoran continent?" His face unchanged, she frowned. "Well, if you're not an angel, then where are you from?"

"Above," he said simply, a finger pointing towards the heavens. "I d—"

"So you are an angel!" Celia narrowed her eyes at Curt her tone accusatory. "The people who live above in the heavens are messengers of the Stars — angels. You know, angels shouldn't lie, unless…" She trailed off, and Curt watched as she seemed to be mentally putting together pieces of a puzzle.

"Of course, you're here undercover, aren't you? That would explain why you look so grimy. No one would suspect you were angel if you didn't look like one," she explained, pleased at herself. Curt wasn't so sure if he liked being described as "grimy", but the truth was the truth. And sometimes, the truth hurt. "Don't worry, I'll keep your secret," Celia continued, lost in her own little world. "In exchange, I want to hear all about the Star City and the Stars themselves. I'll also not tell anyone about your fall."

Curt wasn't sure if he should feel flattered that someone thought he could be an angel, or insulted that it was because he appeared un-angelic that the girl spun an entire backstory for him to try make him being angel a possibility. In any case, he figured it was probably best to go along with the girl's delusions. She clearly didn't seem to be listening to what he'd been saying at all so far.

But she did mention magic. Performing magic even. Strong enough magic to stop him from falling who knows how far up in the sky, whether it was by luck or talent. He didn't know a thing about this "Star City" or the "Stars", but he didn't plan on being a storyteller to Celia for long.

First, he should get his bearings of this place. Then he could take his time and figure out what to do with this second chance at life. Fortune seemed to still be favoring him since he's still alive.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you why I'm here," he said, half-truthfully. "But I first need to get to the nearest town or city or village or whatever. Could you help out with that?"

Celia grinned at him. "I'd love to help! I'll lead the way, my village is really close by." And off she went, like she was never tired.

Curt quickly followed behind, no intention of getting lost by himself in a forest in a new world. The amount of trees and vegetation were already startling to him. He didn't believe there could be so much green in one place.

Celia paused after a few steps. "I wasn't sure there was a land beyond the clouds, you know. So I'm glad you exist," she said softly.

Curt paused, unsure what to reply. But it seemed she wasn't waiting for one and continued to trot ahead.

"Yeah, me too," he said, too quietly for her to hear.